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kapriisunz · 8 months

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CLOWN THRONE & BALLOONS | LA!Buggy x fem!reader

Summary; You like kneeling for Buggy while he’s on his silly chair.

Warnings; Descriptions of Buggy being hot on said chair, fucking Buggy on said chair; Oral (m receiving), p in’ v, fem terms, you ride until you die.

LIVE ACTION ONE PIECE SPOILERS

A/N; FanFic writers please hurry on this I need this man carnally. Gotta smash the clown fear out of me. Also I’m not a fanfic writer but we need someone to jumpstart it, so if this isn’t up to your standard: my bad, I’ve never written and published before especially NSFW.

p.s: If it gets out that the actor doesn’t like his portrayal to be used in this type of way, I’ll be deleting this out of respect. Until then, Enjoy.

Masc!reader here! <- not made yet.

Under a harsh spotlight that only lights a tiny portion of the carnival tent, you’re kneeling in front of your captain. Right, in between his legs, with your head resting dangerously on his thigh, staring up at him.

Buggy had laughed Cabaji out of the tent when he had reported back from Shells town all before you came in.

He’s ‘relaxed’ on the wooden carnival chair, his hat hanging from on top of the back bar of the seat, with one of his legs propped up on the armrest and foot swinging lazily really helps encourage the imagination.

his brows crease his paint, shoulders are tense as he giggles at his speech.

Recounting the way Cabaji spoke of someone—and not him—had taken the Grand Line chart, you almost feel sorry for Cabaji.

The way Buggy speaks of this sounds as if he finds this amusing, you’re sure a part of him does but you can tell that he’s all but relaxed.

Buggy’s pride is flashy tales of himself, finding pure enjoyment from his endeavors so he can showcase them to the world. So, when some nobody ‘pirates’ haphazardly steal a map he planned to steal himself? He laughs.

But it seems all too forced.

"Captain?.." You ask.

He still wears his white and red striped bandanna however it does work as intended since you can still see fray blue hairs that linger around his face.

You wonder, if you asked, if could he put his blue hair into a ponytail. But you shake that thought away.

Buggy grumbles in thought, rubbing his forehead with his fingers, minding his clown paint. You frown at the sight of him and gently stroke his thighs in an attempt to soothe him.

“What will we do?” His eyes snap down at you, sending a thrilling chill down your spine. He giggled, almost too giddy for this situation.

He hums while cocking his head down at you and grinning mockingly. He sits upright, putting his leg down with a loud thud, trapping you in between him, and making your breath hitch.

“The map is mine.” He states tucking a fray hair behind your ear causing you to try and lean into his hand.

However, he snaps his gloved hand to your chin, pulling your face and bringing you closer to him. The wood floor creaks and your knees are a little chafed from kneeling for too long, but you pay no mind- too focused on Buggy and how his face is ever so close to yours. Your noses almost touching.

“And I’m gonna get it back.” He brushes his thumb over your lip, smudging your clown makeup to the side, making you nod up and down at his own words. “No matter who I have to kill.” He lets you go, pulling back against the chair again, you let out a breathy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

You can tell that he’s stressed, that he’s angry since he spent months planning only for it to be for nothing.

A light bulb lights above your head.

Looking around the tent, you and your captain are the only people present as the other ‘freaks’ of your crew must be perfecting their ‘performance’ or taking care of the ‘audience’.

You muster the guts to carry on rubbing his thighs while gradually moving your hands upward along him.

You again place your head on his thigh while feigning innocence. You feel up the striped tunic and then tug at the hem of his pants. He swiftly grips your wrist and causes your breath to catch.

“What are you doing?” He eyes you.

“I..want to make you happy,” You continue, trying your best to not show how worried you are, worried that you step a bit too close to danger with your intentions.

He bends forward and looks at you in the eye. His stare makes you even more nervous, aren’t able to determine if he is angered by what you are doing from the stoic way he stares.

You’re about to apologize but to your surprise, he presses a kiss to your wrist almost too affectionate.

He lets go of your hand and grabs the back of your head, pulling you into one kiss. You let out a moan, heat rising to your face both in shock and rosemary-colored lust. He pauses to look at your face, his hand entangled into your hair with a vice grip.

“You want to take care of your captain?”

He asks tightening the grip on your hair and making you bite back another moan, but you nod on your own this time.

He leans back casually, chuckling at the sight of you. His red paint had smeared over your mouth, you must look stupid, pathetic even: You knelt in front of him hair ruffled and face paint mucky but he found humor in your messy appearance.

“Show me,” Buggy purrs with a wave of his hand for you to continue, a lustful glint in his eye, you nod.

You’re now set on a mission, and that mission is to give your jolly captain the most mind-numbing head. And maybe more if you’re lucky

With his consent, you continue with newfound courage, you unlace his tan trousers as he spreads his legs for you, giving you more room.

Your heart pounds against your chest.

You want to please your captain.

You glide your hand down and graze his crotch, a prominent bulge in his pants all while he watches, hissing at your touch.

Finally, you pull his pants and underwear down to his mid-thigh, his cock throbs against his abdomen.

Buggy, who still has a hand in your hair, tugs you closer, nervously you take his heavy cock into your hand and give an experimental stroke.

With a flat tongue, you follow a long vein, giving a lengthy lick from the underside of his shaft to the pinkish tip, his chest is heavy as he breathes, trying not to roll his head back and keep his eyes on you.

He wants to watch you do this.

“Such a good girl..”

Needing more praise from your flashy clown captain you continue.

Your mouth is on the mushroom tip as you suck down, taking him halfway to not trigger a gag reflex.

You clench your thighs together at the groan he makes desperate for any friction, you bob your head on his cock while giving rough strokes on the part you can’t fully take.

However, Buggy forcibly pulls your head down on him making you grab his thighs and gag slightly, he waits only a moment for you to recover, your nose buried into his bunched tunic.

You give him a light tap and he has you moving your head again along his cock, you slowly learn to breathe out your nose and hollow your cheeks as you take him.

You’ll most likely have a sore throat after this.

Your eyes tear up a bit as you take him, his dick hits the back of your throat rhythmically and ruthlessly. Letting you moan around him, and making him buck his hips at the sensation.

“Fuck . . . you’re doing so well,”

Fuck, you want him to talk more, you’re positive that your nails have dug into him as you feel a shock of arousal pulse through your cunt.

You need relief, and Buggy notices that.

He pulls your head off him, a long string of saliva from your mouth to his dick. He pulls you up by the collar of your shirt to make you hover in his lap. Your knees are now on either side of him.

He wastes no time though, a hand under your skirt and a long drag of his fingers from your cunt to your clit over your panties.

You instinctively cry out, but Buggy is quickly on you, drowning out your moan. The kiss is sloppy, but you and he don’t mind.

“You’ll need to be quiet, you don’t want someone from the crew to get curious about the beautiful noise coming from here.” All you can do is nod, and try to not make much noise by biting your lip.

He’s experienced but rough with the circles he rubs on your clothed clit. He pulls your panties to the side but frustratingly rips them and throws them to the side-, and checks how slick you are with another long stripe.

You’re unsurprisingly ready without much touching from his end which he smirks at, he places his gloved hands-that have damp fingertips- on the divot of your hips.

You place your own hands on his shoulders the fur of his coat nestled between your fingers as you grip it.

You slowly lower yourself onto his cock, the pink leaky tip at the entrance of your cunt, you can feel it already throbbing.

You are about to fully go down but Buggy beats you to it, a bit impatient he bucks his hips up into you. Your legs around his thighs tense and shake at the sudden intrusion, keeping his words in mind you bite your lip, and you bite hard.

He groans at how tight and warm you are.

He begins to bounce you up and down, and once you follow the rhythm you’re both panting and groaning, hard to stop yourself from doing so when take the opportunity to explore your body.

His gloved hands tail all over your figure, teasing your chest through your shirt.

You take the time as well, to gaze at him, every part of him and then, you decide that; you want to bite his neck.

And you do.

He’s caught by surprise when you pull his ascot to bite and suck on his neck, so much so that he gives you a whiny moan when you do so.

At the noise, you feel your walls clench around him, making him hiss and buck his hips up into your sopping pussy.

Determined to have his dick mold your cunt in his shape you start to move faster and deeper, still leaving purple and red marks along his neck -and clown paint, at least you aren’t the only one who looks stupid now.

You can feel the build-up in the pit of your stomach, a tight coil forms ready to snap at one extreme movement.

Buggy’s also close having the same overwhelming feeling.

He enjoys having you rubbed up against him, your teeth biting at his neck trying so hard to keep your mewls down but they’re right in his ear.

Throughout this, he wasn’t ever suspecting to have you at his feet licking stripes on his dick nor have your slick tight pussy bouncing on him and dirtying his clothes, and to be fair he’s quite enjoying himself.

He’s a goner once he hears the next moan.

“Buggy. . .”

Fuck, your whine did something.

However he doesn’t want to cum before you do, so he holds back for just a bit so he can tail his hand in between the both of you to map tight circles on your clit.

Now your body trembles as the coil in your stomach snaps in half, and your walls clench around him

He finally lets himself roll his head back, muttering intangible swears, riding his hips up into you, his whole body tenses.

His cum jerks into your spasming pussy, you whine at the feeling too dazed to worry about any repercussions of this.

He rocks your hips along him, riding out the final moments of your orgasm before slumping back on the chair.

Both of you are breathing heavily, but you find that your ‘mission’ was a outstanding success as you see a genuinely but hazy grin from your now completely relaxed captain.

Maybe those nobodies stealing the map weren’t so bad.

#opla buggy #op buggy #buggy smut #buggy x reader #fem reader #one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #buggy nation #Here ya go you filly animals ((i love you))#I am embarrassed to post this #opla #opla smut

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eyesxxyou · 7 months

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Backstage Show Pt.2

★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 3k

synopsis. after a show, you and hobie fine yourself an an alley for a little fun. little do you know, you have an audience

hobie fucks you in an alley in front of paparazzi

🍒・．❕warnings. exhibitionalism (sex in backalley of venue), p in v sex, unprotected sex not advised, clothed sex, anal fingering (f receiving), ass eating, fingering, public sex, degradation, little bit of a size kink, hobie has a bit of a god) superiority complex, y/n is a group who'd do anything for her idol, bit of a power dynamic fr, this is a bit toxic but gets sweet at the end y'all so hold on

backstage show pt.1 | backstage show pt.3

If you told yourself a couple of months ago that you’d be the Hobie Brown’s fuck buddy, following him around while he tours, always there with open arms, open legs, and an open mouth, you would have called yourself delusional and admitted yourself into a mental hospital. But here you were, in the backstage VIP section watching the show from the best seats in the venue.

You had no idea why Hobie’s kept you around for this long. Compared to others, in your own opinion, you weren’t all that unremarkable. You were pretty, but not the prettiest, good at sex but not the best. But you could only truly narrow it down to your devotion to him. You worshiped him like a god, kissed the very ground he walked on. Maybe he liked the attention, the way he could always be sure that you’d do absolutely anything he asked of you.

You met up with him at every one of his shows, both before and after and depending on whether you fucking him before or after the show (usually before so he could steal your panties and keep them in his pocket while on stage as a "good luck token"), you'd hang out with him and his bandmates, smoking pot and throwing back shots while they recall stories of their earlier days on the road, just the 4 of them and their old van.

His bandmates took you in as an unofficial member of the band without so much as a hitch. A band member they all took turns flirting with but a member nonetheless.

After the show, The Mary Janes came backstage and you rushed to Hobie to praise him over his performance. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands came to support you by grasping your waist. He kissed you feverishly, the rush and exhilaration of the concert still coursing through his veins and screaming to get out in any way possible. The way his tongue stroked yours told you neither of you would get far before his cock would be bullying its way inside your greedy pussy.

“You did so good.” You murmured against his thick lips, your tongue pressed against his lip piercing. “You looked so sexy.” Hobie nipped at your bottom lip and set you down. “I would’ve gone betta if I saw tha’ pretty face of yas out in the crowd.” It it was decided then that there would be no watching from backstage from you, you’d sit at the front of the crowd because Hobie couldn’t perform his very best without seeing his girl.

“Fuck the rest of us then.” Eli, the drummer, muttered snarkily under his breath as a joke. You turned around to look at him in his heterochromatic eyes and slapped his chest as he towered over you. “Not fucking you, am I? I can only handle one pretty face at a time.”

Another band member, Cass, with his locs up in a ponytail and fiddling with his guitar, hummed. “Ya could be though.” They often made jokes about Hobie letting them share you and each time he had the same response. “I don’ like to share wha’s mine.” He’ll eat in front of them but they’ll never get any of the food.

Hobie tapped your ass in the booty shorts you were wearing. “You ready to head out, luv? We gotta go through the back or one of us is gonna get trampled.” He grabbed you by the waist with a possessiveness that told his mate to back off or someone’s head is getting bashed in with a guitar and pulled you into him. He didn’t even have to ask, you were willing to go whenever he was, wherever he was. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The two of you said your goodbyes to his bandmates and made your way through thebackstage to get to the back exit. Hobie kept teasing you along the way, walking with his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of the slutty little shorts you had on, his teeth nipping at the soft, supple flesh of your neck, leaving small bruises where his teeth violated your innocence.

Once you two breached out of the door, Hobie spun you around and pressed you up against the heavily graffitied wall with his lips on yours and his tongue in your mouth, coaxing moans from you which he swallowed as if it were the only sustenance in the world.

“Ma pretty girl.” He cooed into your mouth as he nipped at your tongue . “Always righ’ there fa me. Always down fa anytin’.” His fingers fiddled with the button to your shorts for a moment before undoing them and pulling the useless piece of fabric down just enough to gain access to your pussy. “‘M gonna fuck you righ’ here in this alley, all’em fans just down the way. Anyone can see us. And you’re gonna let me, aren’t ya?”

You nod feverishly, looking up at him as you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. You could hear people walking by, chanting Hobie’s name in hopes that it might coax him to come out and greet them. Anyone one of them could walk right by and see him fucking you stupid and you didn’t care. Not as long as you were the one he was fucking.

“Turn aroun’.” He grabbed you and forced you to turn around. You braced yourself against the wall with your hands, your ass perked out and your back arched, revealing your pussy and asshole to him to use as he pleased through a brand new set of nylon stockings.

Hobie slapped your ass hard, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing off the walls loudly. He wanted to see how much noise he could get away with before someone noticed, not caring if anyone rounded the corner and saw the two of you fucking under the flickering light of the alley. He wanted someone to see your depravity, the way you were so irrationally dedicated to him, the way you’d do anything for him.

He brute forced his way through your stocking, tearing a hole big enough for him to get to your pussy. “No panties? Wha’ a bad girl.” He spanked you again and you yelped at the sting of it, his hand undoubtedly left a print against your ass.

Hobie got down on his knees in behind you, his large, calloused, rough hands spreading your ass to further expose your delicacies. Your pussy was slick with your arousal, no need for preparation. "So wet already, baby. My performance go' you all hot and bothered, then?" His voice was warm against your core and you whined and whimpered with choking words of something of agreement. His performance always got you hot and bothered. There was something both so chaotic yet sensual about the show he put on. If anyone could give Hobie anything, they'd say he certainly had stage presence.

Hobie coaxed his fingers between the warmth of your cunt before easing a single long, slender finger into you. Your silky walls clamped down around the digit in desperation for any stimulation. "Hobie~" you sang his praises as he fucked his finger in and out of you. He wish he had something to record this so he could put it into a song but alas, something like that would have to wait.

Then he added another finger, curling his fingers against your silken walls. "'m pretty girl." He almost sang, fingering you nice and hard with his tongue and lips against your asshole, eating you out in a far different way than you ever expected. He ate your ass easily, languidly, all lips and tongue breaching the tight rim of your ass just a little. "Relax, babe, relax."

You listen to his command despite the anxiety of the crowd whose edges were slowly crawling it's way nearer to the alley as more people added themselves to the awaiting crowd. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and forced your body to relax a little for him. You loosenedd up in accordance, making it easier for Hobie to finger fuck you and sloppily make out with your second hole.

His fingers massaged that soft spot within you, his tongue on your ass sending soft jokes of pleasure to your core as he abused your spot mercilessly. He spat on you like you were nothing but an object of her pleasure, making it known that he was doing all this for him, not for you. Hobie paused a moment and pulled his face back, watching a glob of his saliva run down from your ass to your pussy before being pushed in by his fingers that splayed your pussy open in preparation for his much larger cock.

You whined for him, nails clawing at the concrete walls. "Keep going. I'm almost there. Please, Hobes." You needed it like you needed air in your lungs to breathe or you'd simply die without it.

Hobie scoffed at your plea for some semblance of kindness from him. "Desperate whore." He murmured and went right back to eating you. You were so close your legs trembled with the mere idea of cumming on his fingers and face and the more you thought about it, the closer it came to coming true until your walls were pulsating around his fingers and your ring of muscles clenched with the intensity of the orgasm that washed over you.

Your knees buckled into each other and you would have fallen down if not for you being braced against the wall. "Hobie…please fuck me. Please– I'll do anything, please." You wanted him to extend the kindness a human gives to another and fulfill your ask to the fullest degree.

You'd come to regret that.

You listened in anticipation as he stood back up onto his booted feet and undid the buckle to his belt. He unzipped his pants to let himself free from the restraints of his clothing. He was already so hard just at the sight of you splayed open for him without so much as a shred of dignity in sight. You pushed your ass out further until your checks framed his cock and you began rubbing yourself on him. “Please Hobie.” You whined softly, looking back down the alley to ensure the two of you weren’t seen.

The risk of it made your anxiety all the greater but the sexiness of the moment greater than even that. The risk made him harder and made you wetter.

“Tha’s i’. Dirty lil’ slut can’ help haself.” Hobie grasped your hips and forced you to keep going. He couldn’t help but rut his cock against your ass, slipping it in the hole he made so he could feel his skin against yours and the heat and slick of your pussy against his balls. He grunted into your ear, spitting lewd obscenities at you while nibbling at your lobe.

“Put it in fa me, luv. Since you wan' I'm so badly.”

You whimper softly and reach behind you to grasp him at the base of his cock. You stroked his length a bit, dragging a few moans out of him along with it before directing the tip of his cock towards your dripping cunt. You prepped him the way he always did himself, dragging the leaky head of his dick between your swollen pussy lips so that your shared juices intermingled against your clit.

Hobie slapped your ass once more and this time you cried out at the pain. “I said put it in, didn’ I?” You nod in compliance and quickly positioned the head of his cock against your entrance. You tried to guide him in by he was simply too big for you to do it on your own. “I– I can’t, Hobie. Plea— ahh!” He forced his cock into you with one solid, fluid thrust into your tight hole, forcing out something of a moan and a scream from you. You slapped your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet, looking out down the alley once more.

Hobie didn’t seem to care not one bit as he held your hips still and fucked you nice and rough. He let out noise running parallel to huffs, growls, and groans. “Bes’ cunt ou’ there. This pussy gonna be the death of me.” There was something primal about the way he fucked you. There were no niceties, no pleasantries, no manners. Just rough fucking in the dark backalley of a venue he was just performing inside of. You weren't some girl he had to wine and dine before he could get into bed. You were just some slut he could convince to do anything. And it didn't even take much to convince you to let him fuck you in an alley.

He fucked you dumb, stupid, half brain-dead with your face pressed into the wall, lips parted and drooling while you moaned. He fucked you at an angle, ensuring that if someone did happen to come down there, they wouldn’t be able to see your face. Hobie towered over you, his body completely consuming yours while his hips fucked up into you, each thrust lifting your a little more off the ground until he was supporting your complete weight in his hands as your feet no long touched the wet, littered ground.

You let out muffled squeals and screams. He’s never fucked you like this, fucked you so animalistically. You should be scared all things considered but it only made you wetter, your pussy leaving a creamy ring around the base of his cock. “Shut up and take it.” He muttered, looking down at the way his cock split your hole open with each brutalizing thrust he delivered to your weeping pussy. Each stroke of his cock forcing you to accommodate his size, each thrust forcing your walls to memorize each groove, each vein, each stretch of him. He fucked you like you were his own personal sex toy and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it

His cock touched places that, before him, you never even knew existed. You could feel him bulge in your belly, you could feel him in your throat. You could feel him everywhere, that sweet, thick head of his just barely kissing your cervix, undoubtedly coating it in pre-cum.

“You wanna lemme try sometin’?”

“Anything.”

Satisfied with your answer, Hobie took one hand from your hips— still supporting your weight somehow— and spat on his fingers. You shivered as he placed them on your puckered asshole and spread his saliva across your second hole, prepping you, you realized. You had never done anything anal related before but you kept yourself clean down there just in case a moment like this arose. You were nervous however, as anyone would be if they were getting the shit fucked out of them in an alley with a slew of people just on the cusp of witnessing an actual crime.

“‘S jus’ a finga, okay? Jus’ ma thumb.” He assured you that he wouldn't be doing anything crazy. No here at least. He kept fucking you as he eased his thumb past the tight ring of muscles and immediately you moaned and shuddered as the feel of it intruding into your body. “Hobie…Hobie please.” It was all so much. You felt that you might simply pass out if he continued like this.

He fingered your asshole while fucking you, pressing and messaging the even tighter walls of your ass while your pussy greedily swallowed his cock with each of his thrusts. You were seeing white, crying out so loud that someone has had to hear you by now but you simply couldn’t care at this point. Hobie was fucking your too good for you to care, the rest of his fingers splayed across the small of your back as he uses his new grip on you to fuck you even harder.

This was the kind of fucking that made you revere him, worship him like the sex god he was. You kiss his feet if he wanted, lick his boots, let him degrate you, spit on you, use you as his own personal cum dumpster if he so chose because the orgasm ravishing your body right now was makinging you see white, your gaze lose focus, and your ears ring.

“Hobie, Hobie, Hobie!” You chanted his name as if calling upon a deity to help you, like a prayer on your lips to a god who wasn’t there and you just needed him to hear you. You came a second time, creaming all over his pretty dick, leaving the dark skin glistening in white from your cum.

You could hear Hobie come down from his own high, fucking cum into you with a low, gravelly groan into your ear. His final thrusts were spaced and rough as he emptied his balls into your pussy and once he was done he removed all appendages from you and quickly made you decent before someone could see you stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey.

You could feel his cum leaking out of your pussy as Hobie helped you out of the alley, tossing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you in close to protect you from the paparazzi’s intrusive photos. You thought about how later you were going to finger yourself again with his cum still inside you, hopefully able to get him on the phone to help you through it.

Later on that week, you saw a tabloid magazine about Hobie and smack dab as the front picture was you and Hobie in the alley fucking. You couldn’t see either of your faces but it was very clearly Hobie from his wild hair. In a panic, you called Hobie, babbling on and on about how you shouldn’t have done that and that you might lose your job.

“Is your face in the photo?”

“Well…no.”

“Then how will they know it’s you?” He made a good point. As long as no picture showed up with your face in it, you had nothing to worry about. You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “You’re right, sorry. Okay, I’ve gotta go but I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Of course, luv. Have a good night.”

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #atsv #spiderman #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #spider punk #hobie brown x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie smut #hobie brown x black!reader #rockstar hobie

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itsmealaiah · 2 months

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Hey I have a req for Johnnie I was thinking like he's on stream and your giving him head an he's trying to be quiet but he just can't help himself and he accidentally gives himself away and his viewers are so confused, he realizes what he did and he immediately stops the stream, then he fucks you so hard, the next day he makes up an excuse for his viewers as to why he was making noises on the stream

Thanks

You can change anything I don't really care if it's anything like this tbh

I LOVE THIS ❤️

Love me

tags/ warnings: head (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (both johnnie and y/n are of age, both 18+), rough sex

don't like, don't read.

do not repost, copy, translate, or claim as your own. Read only on this blog.

Your POV:

As johnnie settled into his chair, he logged onto his stream, eager to provide his viewers with the late-night entertainment they so desperately craved. He'd been feeling a little under the weather lately, but he was determined not to let that dampen his spirits or his performance. As he settled into his chair, he gave his audience a reassuring smile and adjusted his mic, and saw you entering the room.

You walked over to him, a sultry smile playing on your lips, and climbed into his lap. He couldn't help but let out a shudder of pleasure as your warm, soft body pressed against him. You leaned in close, your breath hot on his ear, and whispered, "shh, just let me make you feel good baby"

His heart raced as you began to tease him, slowly undoing his pants and pulling his hardening cock out of his underwear. He let out a quiet moan, trying to muffle the sound with his free hand, but it was no use. The pleasure coursing through him was too intense. As you started bobbing your head up and down his shaft, he couldn't help but gasp and arch his back, feeling the familiar tightness building in his core.

"you're doing great, baby," you whispered, your lips brushing against his length as you continued your expert ministrations. Your movements were so smooth and sensual, it was almost enough to distract him from the sounds of his own pleasure. He bit his lip, trying to stifle another moan as he glanced down at the chat window, hoping no one had noticed. But even as he scanned the messages, he couldn't help but feel a surge of heat in his cheeks. The words on the screen were nothing but curious, his expressions changing every second.

His fingers dug into the chair, the leather creaking under the strain. His hips bucked involuntarily with each thrust, pushing his cock deeper into your warm, wet mouth. The sensation was exquisite, and he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of you taking him, the soft sounds you made as you worked him. He couldn't believe how good it felt.

But as much as he tried to lose himself in the pleasure, he couldn't help but be acutely aware of the chat window open beside him. He could see the messages flooding in, a lot of them curious.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, his eyes darting between the messages and your face. "You gotta help me out here, babe."

You smiled up at him, your lips curling around his cock, and nodded, taking him deeper into your throat. He struggled to keep his noises in. "Shhh," you whispered, your fingers tracing over his lips. "Just let me take care of you, okay?"

He gripped the armrests tightly, his knuckles white with the effort not to make any noise as you continued to pleasure him. The soothing and intensely arousing feel of your mouth, sending shivers down his spine. His hips bucked involuntarily against your hand, urging you on, but he didn't dare make any actual noise.

As you expertly bobbed your head, you felt the familiar tightness in your own core begin to build. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and saw the conflicting emotions playing across his features. His eyes were locked on yours, his pupils dilated with desire, but there was also a hint of fear and vulnerability. You knew you had to keep him distracted, both physically and mentally.

You took him deeper, sucking harder, and felt his cock twitch in response. Your fingers dug into his thigh, urging him to let go, to surrender to the pleasure. You could feel his restraint beginning to slip, his hips starting to buck wildly against your hand. You knew he was close.

You glanced up at him, their gazes locked, and saw the tension in his body start to ease. His breathing grew ragged, his muscles relaxed. You took advantage of the moment, using your free hand to stroke his length faster, your other hand cupping his balls and rolling them gently in your palm. You could feel his climax building, see it reflected in the desperation in his eyes.

With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he let out a long, shuddering moan. His hips bucked wildly against you, the chair creaking under the strain, but you held him tight, milking him until the last drop. His eyes rolled back in his head, his hands trembling as he tried to catch his breath.

The sound of his orgasm echoed through the chat, eliciting a chorus of exclamations and questions. You could see the confusion and surprise in his eyes as he glanced down at the screen, still trying to catch his breath. You smiled up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and gave him a reassuring squeeze on the thigh.

"Don't worry about them," you whispered. "Look at me"

His eyes reluctantly met yours. "But they'll know," he stammered.

"No, they won't," you assured him, your voice steady. "They'll never know." You leaned forward, running your tongue along his length, and began to stroke him slowly, teasingly. "Just focus on me."

You meant every word, and as you continued to pleasure him, his attention shifted back to you. His breathing began to steady, his eyes lost in a mixture of desire and gratitude. You could see the tension in his shoulders ease, his body relax into the mattress. The feel of him in your hand, the taste of him in your mouth, it all combined to create a sense of intimacy that was almost overwhelming.

You glanced down at the chat, noticing the messages had turned to speculation and curiosity. Some were even beginning to tease him, asking if he'd really given up his anonymity for a blowjob. You ignored them, focusing on the man beside you.

As you worked him, your own arousal began to build, a slow, steady ache in your core. You couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to have him inside you, to feel him thrusting deep and hard. You took your free hand from his thigh, reaching down to touch yourself through the fabric of your pants. He watched you, his eyes dark with desire, as you stroked yourself, his cock twitching in response.

"You feel so good," he whispered, his voice rough with need. "I want to be inside you."

You met his gaze, holding it for a moment before nodding. "Then show me how much you want it." You reached down between your legs, unzipping his pants and pulling them down, revealing his hardness to you. He helped you remove your clothes, tossing them carelessly aside, and positioned himself over you, guiding his cock to your entrance. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with desire and a hint of uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached up, cupping his cheek in your hand, and smiled up at him. "I've never been more sure of anything."

He brushed his lips against yours, their softness sending a shiver through you, and then he thrust forward, burying himself deep inside you. You arched your back, gasping at the sensation of being filled, feeling him stretch you in a way that was both unfamiliar and achingly right. He began to move, his hips meeting yours in a rhythm that was almost painful in its intensity. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, wanting more of his heat and strength.

As he moved within you, the pleasure built, wave after wave of it coursing through your body, leaving you breathless and shuddering. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your back arched off the mattress as you felt the familiar tightness begin to coil in your core. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and saw the same look of ecstasy mirrored in his eyes. He was close.

"I'm going to come," he whispered, his voice tight. "I'm so close."

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him as close as you could, feeling his body tense beneath your fingers. You could feel it too, the way his cock throbbed inside you, the way his hips began to buck wildly against yours. The room spun, the world narrowing down to just the two of you and the sensations that coursed through your bodies.

With a groan that seemed to come from deep within him, he thrust one final time, his hips meeting yours in a powerful collision that sent shockwaves of pleasure through you both. He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. You could feel him inside you, still hard, still filling you, and you couldn't help but moan in response.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of his skin against yours. He moved his head, kissing you tenderly, his lips soft against yours. The taste of him lingered on your lips, and you couldn't help but smile against his mouth.

"I've never been more sure of anything either," he whispered, his voice still ragged from their shared exertion. You felt the weight of him begin to lift as he slowly withdrew from your body, leaving you aching and wanting more.

You stretched beneath him, arching your back and reveling in the feeling of being empty. He watched you with a mixture of tenderness and desire, his gaze traveling the length of your body before returning to meet your eyes. You reached up, tracing your fingers along his jawline, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips.

"Thanks for staying," you murmured, your voice still heavy with sleep. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled down at you, his eyes softening. "I'll always stay, no matter what." He kissed you gently, his lips warm against yours. "Now, why don't you try to get some more sleep?"

You yawned, snuggling deeper into the pillow. "Okay."

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His skin glowed in the soft light from the bedside lamp, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the morning when you'd have to leave. But for now, you were here with him, and that was enough.

He reached over to turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The air felt cool against your skin, and you shivered slightly. He must have noticed, because he immediately pulled the covers up to your chin and wrapped his arms around you. You sighed contentedly, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you.

"I love how you feel in my arms," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "I could stay like this forever."

You nestled closer, pressing your body against his. "Me too." You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion from the night before start to pull at you again. "Goodnight, my love."

He kissed the top of your head before pulling the blanket up higher, tucking it securely around you. His hand found yours in the darkness, lacing their fingers together. You could feel him watching you as you drifted off to sleep, and it was the most comforting sensation in the world.

The next morning, you woke up to the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the curtains. You stretched lazily, enjoying the feeling of being nestled in the warmth of your bed. You didn't see johnnie, he must've been making breakfast. "Hey baby" he says, opening the door with a coffee mug in his hands.

you drag him back into bed, forcing him to place the coffee on the bedside table, and kissed him, cuddling him tightly, wrapping yourself into his embrace. "thank you baby" you giggle, kissing the tip of his forehead.

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #goth #emo #emocore #scenecore #scene #itsmealaiah

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2hoothoots · 1 year

Text

new comic is done!! this one was a DOOZY and i changed my workflow like six times, but in the end i think it came together really nice! it's, uh, probably the last longer one i'm gonna do for a while, though :P

i'll probably add a little step-by-step in a reblog tomorrow. for now, catch the transcript under the cut!

Vanishing Act, over the intercom: So sorry I can't stay and watch you be devoured by pyro-sharks, but I've got my curtain call to make... and the audience are simply dying to see me. Ciao, agents! Or should I say... CHOW! AHAHAHAHAHA!

(Caught in one of Vanishing Act's villainous death traps, agents Zanotto and Aquato find themselves hanging by a thread in... "LOVE BITES!")

(sfx: Clink, clink)

Lili: Welp. At least now you've got an excuse to miss Franke and Kitty's wedding.

Raz: Oh, my GOD. I can't believe you're still going on about that.

Lili: I don't get why you're being so stubborn about it!

Raz: Because Kitty's a jerk and I hate her.

Lili: That's not true.

Raz: Yes it is! That cruise ship mission we went on, she left me to barf my guts out for like two hours!

Lili: Well maybe you shouldn't have eaten all that shrimp!

Raz: Well MAYBE I didn't know it was POISONED!

(sfx: clink, clink)

Lili: ...c'mon, Raz. That's not the only reason, is it?

Raz: I guess I just... I feel weird about it, y'know? It makes me think about us.

Lili: Wow. Way to make things all about you.

Raz: Oh, c'mon, you know that's not what I meant.

Lili: Well what do you mean?

Raz: It just... sometimes, I...

Raz: Relationships are - complicated, right? I'm happy for them, but it makes me think about our own relationship. And how there are... milestones, and - and certain expectations, and... and marriage is... well, it's...

(He sighs)

Raz: Ow.

(sfx: BONK)

Raz: There's give on my right wrist.

Lili: Can you pass it under?

Raz: One second...

Lili: Alright. Just gotta get my legs free...

Lili: Hey. D'you... want to get married?

Raz: ...no. No, and I feel - terrible about it.

Raz: Because I - because we don't have a traditional relationship. And I don't want to have that with you. I like how we are now. But then I see other people our age getting married, and it makes me worry that... that I'm letting you down, or not doing enough as your boyfriend, and that - that maybe you deserve someone who...

Lili: Raz?

Raz: Yeah?

Lili: I love you.

Raz: I love you too.

Lili: You're being stupid.

Raz: I know.

(sfx: paf)

Lili: ...listen. We should talk about this. But, uh, maybe not in the pyro shark death trap.

Raz: ...huh. Y'know, these are great whites. You can't keep them in a tank. They need the space of open water.

Raz: Which means I'll bet anything that this... leads to the ocean.

Lili: Then let's get a move on. We've got a party to crash.

#psychonauts #pyro-sharks lovingly plagiarised from one of caligraphunky's fics #because it's such a perfectly goofy mental image and i couldn't get it out of my head #future superstar agents au #fsau raz #fsau lili #comic #polish #and now. i sleep. goodnight all

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be-my-ally · 9 months

Text

A Tour of the Penthouse

ugh naming one-shots is the bane of my existence. I'm terrible at coming up with titles.

Hello! I am back! not that I ever left, but I've been on a bit of a writing break the past few weeks - not intentionally I might add, so I am mighty pleased to be *inspired* and writing again. Much more in the pipeline coming soon, but first, a fun little smutty 1973 vegas one night one-shot!

warnings: 18+, p in v, oral (v receiving), mirrors... that's it folks, short and basic but hopefully still hot! this doesn’t feel super elvis-y to me but i think that might be the self-doubt creeping in after it being so long since i last posted (i hope)!

For the prompt: “No. Don’t talk to her like that."

pairing: 1973 Elvis x female reader (note: photos below are from the stax studios sessions in memphis July 22nd about 2 weeks before the vegas dates this fic is set in, but if he was willing to wear velour in tennessee in july, I don't see why not in vegas in august).

wc: 4.4k

You’d had the fantasy, the idea of being plucked out of the audience, the concept of a tap on the shoulder; “Please, miss, come with us.” But you’d known that was purely fantastical. You’d not been handpicked to be here this evening, you’d handily bumped into the brother of your best friend’s husband - a tenuous link if ever there was one who’d happily offered you an evening’s entertainment after you’d embarrassingly admitted you’d come to Vegas alone in the vain hope of scoring an Elvis ticket. The embarrassment waned pretty fast though when he’d apologised for not being able to do better than a back of the balcony seat, but that, perhaps because you’d sounded so embarrassed or pathetic, he knew someone with a standing invite to “not an after-party, just, casual drinks after the show.” Even so, you’d not believed you’d get anywhere near Elvis himself. Yet, somehow here you were, drink in hand, being flirted with (inexplicably terribly) by one of his entourage as you pretended not to be solely focused on his friend and boss, talking mere feet away. He suddenly whirls around to you, talking loudly to the man in front of you,

“No. Don’t talk to her like that, man, c’mon.” Elvis shakes his head, “You gotta do it right if you’re gonna try.” The thin man, his name escaping you as entirely inconsequential now you’re being faced with Elvis himself, takes a step back as Elvis practically pushes him to the side, taking his place directly in front of you, hand brushing your arm in greeting. “ Just ignore him hon.” You nod, a little starstruck at being so close to him, having watched him from the balcony earlier that night it was almost a little jarring to go from such distance to so close. The top of his head and bridge of his nose had been more visible to you than anything else, the novelty of now being able to see up his nose one of the many thoughts rapidly running through your head. Oh God, how did I end up here? And, Lord, is that really Elvis talking to me? Competed to be at the forefront of your mind, although admittedly along with Is he really wearing velvet velour in Vegas?

“Oh, I’ll do my best! If you say so, Sir!” Sir? To be faced with him in all his physical glory - velour and all, was hindering your ability to form thought or words. He chuckles at you, seemingly finding your obviously flustered state endearing, while nudging the other man again,

“Now - before I had ta step-in and save ya, what was he promisin’ ya? A tour?” The other nods sheepishly, as you agree,

“Oh - uh, yes, um your, uh, friend - uhh, sorry, what was it again? Oh uh, Red here, was saying he could take me to have a look around the showroom, while it was empty-like. If uh, if I was interested.” You cringe internally as you feel yourself stumbling over your words. Elvis scoffs, rolling his eyes beneath tinted glasses.

“The showroom? That was the best you could do, huh boy?” He shakes his head in seeming exasperation, turning back to you to ask, “You ever wanted to see a dressing room… or uh, my suite?” Of course you have, who wouldn’t have done?

“Oh. Well, I uh, I can’t say I’ve considered it before.” You wince internally, trying to keep your outer expression neutral, was that seriously your best reply?

“No? Well honey, I’ll have to take you back and show you some time.” You can’t help the giggles escaping, nor the slight snort that preceded them - too utterly flustered to worry about playing it cool.

“C’mon EP, that’s not playin’ fair, you’re practically bribing the poor girl.” Red says it almost without thinking, and you can see the nerves play out on his face, hoping Elvis would react the way he’d intended.

“Bribing?” He scoffs, “With you as the competition,” sneering he turns back to you, “go on then, doll, who’d you pick? Me or this ol’ lug?” He puffs out his chest as if showing off.

“Well, uh, Mr. Uh. Mr West. You’re very nice and all, but -“ Red laughs in response,

“Don’t worry darlin’, I knew I was fighting a losin’ battle soon as he stepped over here.” He nods, “I’ll try my luck over there, you two enjoy your night.” He smiles, although you can tell he’s a little put out. Elvis looks pleased with himself, hip cocked and hand inserted into his bright gold belt, seemingly waiting for you to have something else to say.

“That - that’s not the outfit you were wearing earlier.” If you could smack yourself right now, you would; of course it wasn’t the same outfit, why would he stay in a stage costume all night, you wish you could take the words back but Elvis smiles, a little ruefully, pulling his hand from his belt to run it through his hair.

“Well honey,” He drawls out the endearment, elongating the syllable break, as if debating whether to tell you, or perhaps an attempt at making his voice sound even more appealing. “It’s, a bit embarrassin’ to admit, but… I’ve got a bit of a habit of splitting my pants…” He looks at you, solemnly shaking his head, “Just you know, with all the movin’ and shakin’ on stage, I seem to go through a lot of them. Made it through the show alright tonight, but apparently climbing down them stairs off the stage at the end was too much for ‘em.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widen as you take that in for a second, mind gone as you imagine the white crystallised suit of earlier, splitting down the seam and then all the way down his legs, imagining it falling off of him completely, him stood nude and glorious against the spotlight of the stage. You realise he was still talking, “Huh? Sorry - What’d you say?” Elvis rolls his eyes,

“I said, listen, how’s about you come and take a look? Are you any good with a needle?” You’re slow to the uptake when being faced with his southern drawl and seemingly random question and you panic for a second; he’s still looking at you, watching your expressions with unblinking eyes beneath his lavender shades, you can’t think of what to say in response, such an easy question, but what level of skill does he even need? You gape at him until he finally seems to take pity, shrugging a little,

“S’alright if you’re not, it’s just my fingers, I’ve never got the hang of it,” He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “My ma tried, but I can never thread it quite right.” He mimes trying to thread a needle, comedically - tongue out, and one eye closed. You burst out laughing, mostly from sheer relief from being able to form thought again. “You must at least know how to hem?”

You nod, a little offended, “Of course! I made this dress!” He looks you up and down, and you feel yourself stand up a little straighter, an almost subconscious reaction to his looking, while smoothing the pockets down as surreptitiously as you can for his inspection.

“Made it fill out just right too.” You squirm on the spot in response, you can’t work out if you should be offended at being reduced to essentially free labour, or that you somehow find it totally acceptable just because he’s made your tummy flip with that one little sentence.

“Well, you know, just thought maybe, maybe I could just get you to take a look and let me know what you think I should do.”

“Oh uh, sure thing - Yes, absolutely, I could do that.” He grins at you, in reward for your compliance, before pressing a hand into the small of your back, directing you to the elevator.

It’s overwhelming, the feel of being with him in such a confined space, focussed on the door in front of you for the mere seconds between floors. It’s all you can do to keep yourself together, the smell of him, the feel of his hot palm still against your back making your thighs clench. Elvis seems to be in a world of his own, fingers gently rubbing your back, humming under his breath. You’re not quite sure why you’re both pretending you really were going to look at a torn jumpsuit. But when you start to follow that line of thought you can feel your heart-rate increasing and panic start to rise - it’s not that you don’t want to do whatever he has in mind, just that you’ve never done this causally before. All you can do is quickly attempt to distract yourself by curiously assessing the decor.

Somehow though, mere minutes later, small talk and short tour over, you find yourself sitting at his dressing table, jumpsuit in hand as you peer at the split straight along the seam of the crotch.

“Well, er, Elvis, here’s the thing - I think it might be beyond repair - or, at least it’s beyond what I can do with a travel kit.” He nods, solemnly, from over your shoulder, his sideburn hair tickling your cheek, and hands starting to span across your ribs.

“Hmm, guess I’ll have to send it to get mended then,” He tugs it out of your grip, balling it up and throwing it off to the side.

“Oh, well - yes, I’m sure someone will be able to - oh!” His hands creep further around your ribcage, until he’s just ever so slightly brushing his fingers further against your breasts. You shiver as his breath gets heavier on your, puff of laughter at your immediate physical reaction sending goosebumps across your exposed skin. He brushes your hair out of the way, gently tucking it behind the other ear, while his other hand remains spanning your ribs, thumb moving in delicate small circles. The small part of your brain not totally preoccupied solely with the sensation of him behind you wonders if you should be doing something yourself, turning around maybe, but before you can move you feel him lean back in to your neck, lips barely two inches from your skin.They brush against your ear and you squirm away, shuddering a little.

“Oh,” Elvis laughs, “That’s a no for that, huh, sweetheart. I’ll have to pull out my special moves for you then.” You nod, rapidly, starting to explain that he definitely should pull out any and all moves just nowhere near your ears, but as you’d swung your head up you’d made thunking contact with his nose.

“Shit! Son-of-a-mother -“ He swears loudly as he takes a sudden step backwards, knocked off balance, and you whirl around apologies tumbling out of your mouth,

“Oh god, oh, god I’m so sorry.” He’s pulling his glasses off of his face, a red mark spreading from the bridge of his nose up to between his eyebrows where your head had knocked them hard against his soft skin. “Oh god! Your face!” He blinks at you for a moment, rubbing at the redness, before his face breaks into a crooked grin.

“Can’t say I’ve bumped noses in a while.” He’s still rubbing the spot even while he’s joking and you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him, the embarrassment rolling down your spine, your cheeks turning red to match his.

“Oh god, maybe I should just go,” You stand from the chair, looking around for your purse, “I don’t know what I was thinking - this is clearly a sign, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.” He rushes to stop you, hand grabbing your forearm,

“No, no, please, look - I’m fine now,” He gestures to his face, “bet it won’t even bruise.” You shake your head, “No, look, we just needta be face to face.” His hands grip your waist, eyes telling you to stay, and once he’s sure you’ll stay in place, he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, “See, you can’t headbutt me from here, just needed to look at each-other.” You nod, gently, barely moving your head.

“Well, you might be right,” His thumb brushes over your lips, hand moving to clasp the back of your neck, drawing you closer. You stumble towards him until you’re pressed against his front, so close that you’re practically inside his jacket, resting against his shirt.

Your eyes fall closed as his lips meet yours, he’s hungry for it, capturing your mouth, tugging your lip between his teeth. You feel a little like you’re being devoured, melting against him, his other hand moving to your ribs again clutching you to him and holding you upright. You stumble backwards when he starts to walk forwards, still gripping your body and still pressing his lips against yours.

He pushes you back onto the bed, leaving you to scrabble backwards up towards the pillows, watching him strip his jacket off. He immediately goes for his shirt, rapidly unbuttoning it. He’s slimmer than you thought, all tan lean corded muscle, with just a little layer of fat over his stomach and you find your mouth watering as you take in the soft covering of his chest hair. He seems to assess the situation for a moment, before unbuckling his belt, taking his plush velvet trousers off, unveiling his lack of underwear, half-hard cock flopping out.

You try to swallow your moan, he looks you over, reassuring; “Don’t worry, I got the sound locked darlin’. S’not like the house, but it’s good enough. You can be as loud as you like.” You almost immediately put it to the test when he hikes your dress up to your waist, exposing your panties, yelp escaping. You stare up at the red canopy, breath hitching as you take in the mirrored ceiling - you can’t take your eyes off of it, watching Elvis’ naked back, the small scattering of moles as he moves. His hands curl around, deftly unzipping your dress even from underneath you, loosening it enough to pull it off. Your head rolls back, watching your nakedness be slowly unveiled. You’ve never been body shy but somehow being unable to look anywhere but at yourself makes you a little self-conscious, and you’re glad when Elvis moves himself back up to be covering you.

“What’d ya want honey?” He slides a hand down, pressing a long, masculine finger against the soft cotton of your panties. “You going all shy on me?” You shake your head,

“No, no - I don’t, I don’t know,” He pushes the fabric into you, gathering the wetness already pooling there, wet patch slowly spreading. “Take - take ‘em off, let me, need them off Elvis, please.” He grins, finding your slight desperation amusing,

“Hmm…but they look so pretty doll,” He circles your clit through the fabric, “You sure?” You nod,

“Uh-huh, please -“ He hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down your legs, getting you fully nude. He chucks them onto the floor and you flush at the sound of the wet fabric hitting the floor. Elvis soon distracts you though, resting on his elbow alongside you, pointing out how you look in the mirror.

His hand drifts over your bare stomach, somehow gently but firmly brushing over your skin and up to your chest, large sweeping circles - your breath catching as his hand trails closer and closer to you breast, rings warmed by the heat of his hand rubbing against your skin. Every time you think he’s going to touch you, properly, he returns to circle your stomach and if you could form a thought you’d ask him to speed it up, but as it is his mouth is attaching to your collarbone, gently sucking down, little bruises forming. Finally, your back arches to meet him. He finally brushes his fingers over your nipple, tickling, you gasp as he lightly pinches one, an immediate jolt of heat to your core. His hands brush down your sides, leaving you panting, before he wriggles down, pulling your legs with him, so that you slide down the bed, situating himself between your thighs. He runs his hand through his hair, finger-combing the fluffy hair backward, eyebrow arching,

“You ok with this baby?” You nod, not quite able to believe Elvis Presley is offering to go down on you but there he is, gripping your thighs, placing his head between your legs. “C’mere then.” He kisses the soft skin there, a little line across to the crease of your thigh. His breath tickles and your thighs tense in response. He murmurs something you don’t quite catch before he moves to press a kiss right above your clit. His fingers move from your legs, one hand remaining where it was, the other coming to stroke your labia, spreading your inner folds, feeling where your slick is already sticking your skin together.

“Lawd, hon-ey, you always get this soppin’ wet?”

“Oh god, Elvis, I haven’t - no-one’s ever,” You can feel him chuckle, the vibration making you gasp, but he doesn’t respond, simply wets his lips and dives in. His hands hold you open for him, and he manhandles your legs to keep them open and apart, your burning core on display for him. He flicks between lapping at your inner and outer folds, his fingers coming up to replace his tongue, scissoring into you, so that he can lick up to your clit, sucking onto the sensitive bundle of nerves.He’s clearly skilled, and the wetness, the newness of it - the shock of it all only adds to your growing heat; and the way you feel yourself start to tremble as the sensation grows.

Your hands clutch at the sheets, trying to avoid gripping his head even as your hips thrust up in response to his tongue spearing into you. You can’t look away from the image of his head between your thighs, enjoying the way his back ripples and how when he pulls back the bridge of his nose and eyebrows become visible. Reminding you who it is between your thighs, as if you could forget from the feel of his famed lips. His tongue licks its way up and down your folds, before tongue-fucking into you. His fingers move back as soon as he moves his tongue away, constantly touching you in some way. Your hips jolt and he moves his mouth up to suck on your clit; everything coming to be too much. He licks you through it, your stomach clenching as the pressure grows out from your core, orgasm starting to fizz through your veins, ringing in your ears.

You shudder as it hits, Elvis leaning back a little, rubbing gently with his fingers, your hips rolling in pure pleasure, until he leans in again to kitten-lick your sticky, wet, skin. Your thighs suddenly slam together of their own accord, and you feel his cheek on your thigh before you hear his “oof” at the sudden impact.

“Oh god, not again.” You try to sit up to apologise but you’re still breathless, and with your core still tensing from your orgasm you struggle to even manage to get onto your elbows. “Oh-no.” Elvis pops his head up, so you can both see each other properly, growling at you. Your head rolls back at the sight of him, sweaty upper lip and a mix of unidentifiable shiny wetness on his chin.

“You are trouble.” He quirks a grin, as if to ensure you know he’s at least half-kidding, shaking his head at you, “‘m starting to think I needta tie you down if I don’t wanna be battered.” You gasp, back arching and he chuckles at your visceral reaction. “Not right now though, huh, gotta - wanna be in you.” You nod frantically, affirmative words spilling out of your mouth. He slides back down to rest his head between your legs, holding your thighs open with a tight grip.

“Now, you be nice to lil Elvie, you hear me?” He whispers right against your sensitive folds, breath tickling, talking directly to your vagina, as if it might behave of its own volition, “I don’t think you have hands… or legs… but just in case. No more hittin’ me. Got it? I ain’t afraid to make you behave.” You burst out laughing when he does a high-pitched voice in response to himself, “Yes, sir, Elvis, sir, I’ll behave.” making it seem as if your vagina had just agreed with him. He’s smiling when he pushes himself back up, pulling himself to flop down on the bed at the same height as you, before rolling over, pushing an elbow onto the other side. He tugs on his cock for a second, before lining himself up, sinking into your hot, soaking, heat.

He groans, pressing into you as you adjust to his length within you, feeling the sweat on his chest rub against your skin. He’s slow at first, building up to forcefully thrusting into you, famous hips moving at speed.

“God, you’re tight, don’t do this often do ya honey?” You shake your head, and then nod, trying to respond, “Not too tight though huh, doll, you’re just - just perfect. Perfect for me.” He punctuates each sentence with a hard thrust, your response catching in your throat - practically choking yourself. He drags you back against him, hands gripping your hips. Jolting your body back and forth as he slams into you, shifting you to fuck into you at just the right angle. You have no idea what noises were coming out of your mouth, only that you were certainly babbling something. He seemed incapable of silence himself, a stream of curses and praises continually falling out of his lips.

He pauses in his thrusts, preoccupying himself with stroking a finger the length of your vulva, feeling where your bodies are joined. Your eyes fall closed, lost in the sensation of him. He moves back again, sliding his hand up to brush his thumb across your already sensitive clit, your back arching in response. He grunts above you, his thumb keeping pace, and his cock thrusting in at the same speed. It doesn’t take long before the way he’s knocking perfectly into your already sensitive core sends you into orgasm again, clenching down on him and shuddering, your mouth agape and your eyes shuttering closed as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

He drags you back from it, hips stuttering at a rapid pace, lasting only a minute before you can feel him jumping inside you, his face screwed up tight, mouth opening as he rapidly pulls out, shooting his cum across your stomach. He groans in pleasure, and you tip your head up to meet him, kissing him as aggressively as you can manage in your post-orgasmic state. By the time he pulls away, rolling off to the side and flopping onto his back, both of your lips are bitten and red-raw. You make eye contact in the mirror, watching both of your chests heave as you try to form coherent thoughts again. He’s covered in sweat, fluffy hair starting to curl at the ends with the exertion of it all, and you stare at your own flushed state for a moment, wondering how on earth you’d ended up here.

“So, don’t needta tie you down then, honey, just gotta tire you out.” Elvis’ voice was gravelly, and you murmured an agreement,

“I don’t normally flail so much.” You admit, somewhat jokingly. He grins, rolling onto his side to rub your stomach, avoiding his cooling ejaculate,

“Oh so I’m just special huh?” You nod,

“You must know that.” He stares at you, and you try to convey with your eyes the depth of feeling by which you mean it, not wanting to scare him by saying it out loud. You think he gets it though, when the next moment he’s smiling a little bashfully before rolling off the bed and stretching beside it. You take the chance to assess him all over again, now that the heat and speed from before is over, taking your opportunity to drink him all in, from the tan line high on his thigh, to the slight swell of his tummy all the way up to his little nipples, and to the slight shadow forming on his chin. He seems to appreciate the attention for a minute, smirking at you, before he wanders off to the ensuite,

“You hanging around for a lil bit, sweetheart? D’you wanna come to the show again tomorrow?” You wonder if it was intentional that he’d ask this where he couldn’t see your expression, calling out from the bathroom as he starts to turn on the water. But, in what world, in what universe could anyone turn down such an offer.

“If you’re inviting me!” He hums back in response and you feel a giggle rise in you at the next thought that pops into your head, “‘sides, got a promise of a tour didn’t I - Red’ll be expecting me.” You hear the faucet suddenly turn off, although the shower stays running and the next thing you know he’s striding out from the ensuite at that, bouncing you on the bed from the force of his jump onto it, growling as he pins your squirming, laughing self down, his knees on either side of you. He’s struggling to maintain a straight face as he manages to capture both of your wrists in one hand, the other tickling your sides as best he can,

“You better not. You want a tour, I’ll give you a tour. You hear me, little girl?” His hands feel like he’s only playing but his face was deadly serious - you nod rapidly in agreement,

“Yes, yes, Elvis - yes, I was only kiddin’ I swear!” You manage to make out through your giggles and he growls again, ceasing the tickling and pressing a kiss to your cheek, still practically smothering you, leaving little teasing nibbles down your neck.

“Fuckin’ Red.” He mutters against your skin,

“I swear I was only messin’ with you.” He huffs, but nonetheless kisses your lips once more, before releasing your hands and clambering off. He holds out a hand,

“C’mon - the shower will be hot now. Get you all clean and tucked up in my bed, somewhere no-one else can try and steal you.” You grin as you allow yourself to be pulled up, happily going with him and excited to see what the next day’ll bring.

#elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis x reader #big daddy elvis #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader #writing prompt game #elvis presley fanfiction #be-my-ally

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afairytalestray · 4 months

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OK so on Saturday I got to go to Milan to see the Cats Il Sistina tour and HOLY GOD IT WAS AWESOME. I'm glad I studied the character designs in advance because a lot of the costumes are really different. I'm not typically a huge fan of nonreplicas but Il Sistina may well change that!

I've compiled my thoughts on the show here! Nb, I do not speak Italian so I'm not sure how close to the original lyrics the translation is 😅

There were no green goggles, but the Cats did come in through the audience. I had an aisle seat and Cassandra walked right past me! She was right there and so beautiful omg.

I've gotta get in right at the start that Simone Ragozzino is my new all-time favourite Mungojerrie. The most ever! A little guy. He got most of the acrobatics that Tumblebrutus usually does - apparently Simone used to be an acrobat/gymnast so that makes sense. He and Rumpleteazer were sufficiently chaotic but also clearly valued and beloved members of the tribe. Idk man Simone just got it. Tumble-jerrie ftw.

The cathedral from "round the cathedral" was changed to a Colosseum reference which I loved 😍

I'm obsessed with Demeter’s makeup from this tour actually. I'm personally not the biggest fan of cryptid-style makeup and looks in Cats in general, but I feel like Deme was balancing just on the edge and it really worked and I loved it. Maybe it was Viviana Salvo's acting as well - she was fabulous at toeing that line between stunning and unnerving!

Tugger and Munkustrap were super close! Munk was less annoyed by Tugger’s antics than normal and they did this thing at one point where Tugger was holding onto Munk who leant fully backwards off the edge of the stage - it was like a trust exercise and I was a fan. Their rendition of Old Deuteronomy was lovely and their voices worked so good together! Tugger was definitely Munkustrap’s second in command of the tribe. I wish Tugger was a bit more Tugger in appearance, he seemed very yellow with not a lot of detail on his costume, but the personality was hundo p present and accounted for. He did the "bite is worse than your bark" line in Jellicle Songs and legit barked at the end.

Jennyanydots was fabulous! Instead of a big coat she literally wore a giant ball of wool, and one of the props was giant knitting needles and the start of what might have been a giant scarf - it took 6 of the Cats to carry it. It actually worked super well for Milan, which is known for fashion and fabrics - there's even a giant sewing needle sculpture outside Cadorna Station! It was probably a happy coincidence but I enjoyed it!

Victoria's role was changed quite a bit, her solo was totally different and the pas de deux was gone. There also kinda just... wasn't the big small first touch Vic and Grizabella moment, which I was sad about, but if Griz's big moment wasn't "TOUCH MEEEEEE" in the translation, I'm not so bothered by it. I wish Vic had a bit bigger of a role because I love her, but she was killing it whenever she was on stage.

We are all stan pink Jemima, she had such a lovely voice too. Her and Alonzo were playing with a tennis ball during the interval and it was adorable.

My beloved Coricopat and Tantomile were lying in the Mouth of Truth prop after Moments of Happiness; they had their usual role of translating Old Doots through Jemima so I thought their placement here was deliberate! They weren't always fully in sync which I kinda liked, it was like they were allowed to be their own characters rather than just "the twins". I definitely got the impression that Tantomile was the older sister which hella backs up my hcs about her!

Gus was absolutely WILD. He comes in after Jellylorum has done her whole first part of the song in this raggedy old tradiotional Sherlock Holmes-style beige plaid coat instead of being there but kinda out of it the whole time. At first he wasnt keen on replaying any of his roles, but then all the others were like please please please and he relented. I think they were calling him (or his role) Romero? Idk if that's an Italian reference I just don't get? They did Pekes and Pollicles (one of the above had been changed to chihuahuas!) and then the bold Rumpus/Romero appeared... in a red satin bath robe and holding a sabre??? I need to look up this reference! Dude didn't just intimidate the pollicles, he straight up cut a couple of them down with his sword! Grandpa woke up and chose violence 😂

There was no trash train in Skimbleshanks 😭😭 there were giant glowstick things that changed colours though. Skimble and Bustopher were played by the same actor which is a combo I haven't seen before. Skimble was definitely still everyone's favourite train dad, all the characters were totally hyped for his song. HE DID TAP LIKE IN 2019. It was really cool how they did it, all the music stopped and he started a call and response tap dance with some of the other characters. The background showed an animated video of going through a train tunnel, like from the perspective of a train driver! The tap was gradually speeding up and became the sound effects of a train setting off and moving through the tunnel. I'm not explaining this super well but it was SO cool.

The Macavity Fight was quite different. There wasn't him disguised as Old Deuteronomy and then unmasked. What happened was he showed up and caused some shenanigans and then disappeared. There were about 4 of him around, so it looked like he was teleporting around the stage and audience! Bombalurina and Demeter performed his song which was absolutely fantastic (seriously how do these actresses actually manage to dance like that and sing at the same time?? Goddesses), after that he showed up again and the full cast was involved in the fight. Munkustrap still got the good choreography, but the whole tribe was involved trying to protect Old Deuteronomy. Tugger was definitely a protector in this production, he was very involved. Jerrie got KO'd a good few times, and Macavity absolutely destroyed poor Jenny! It felt like all of them were trying to protect their family and I really liked that. Despite that, Macavity was still able to win and successfully kidnap Old Doots!

"Mungojerrie, RUMPLETEAZER, Griddlebone" they let my girl do crime again!

Mistoffelees and Quaxo were besties, and Misto was REALLY enjoying Tugger's song I'm just saying. Delighted to announce Il Sistina Misto was a fruity little guy. He didn't get the terrible bore line, sad face, that went to Quaxo, but tbh idk how they translated that so it could be totally different! At one point Alonzo was holding him back at the start of Tugger’s song! We then saw a sponge-like Misto who picked up behaviours from the others around him, like he wasn't too sure of himself. This is actually one of my favourite Misto hcs so i was so chuffed to see it so clearly. He then helped Alonzo rein George (at least I think it was George!) in from going mental fanboy at Tugger. He was originally curious about Griz but then adjusted to hissing upon seeing the others. This fully went forward into his song. They did some big choreo changes. It was significantly less dance-heavy than traditional Misto performances and had a stronger focus on him being magic. There was a levitating box that they spent a lot of time with - Magician's Assistant Cass got in, but then she didn't disappear? She just popped back out again after the box had been rotated a few times. Some of the Kittens were waving their hands under the box to prove there was nothing holding it up and looking amazed which was adorable though. There was also a bit where Misto put some cards into a hat, the hat got passed down a line of Cats and then at the end they just sort of flew out? Like idk maybe they changed the lyrics where they're describing different magic tricks and it all makes sense! I THOUGHT THE CONJURING TURNS WERE GONE, but they were just moved to the very end of the song and cut down quite a bit.

Ok BUT LISTEN, à la 2019, the poor boy tried and failed twice to bring back Old Deuteronomy and then just sort of flopped in the corner all defeated but then BOYFRIEND TUGGER HELD HIS HANDS AND GOT RIGHT UP CLOSE AND WAS LIKE I BELIEVE IN YOU BABE and omg for real those actors knew EXACTLY what they were doing Tuggoff nation RISE. I'm always a red-sheet-turned-cape stan but I can definitely get behind the sparkly tail coat and playing card bowtie. He also had this handkerchief that he threw up in the air and it became a magic wand. I have no idea how and it was very silly so obviously I loved it. Although I wasn't massively into the choreo changes (ballet dancer Misto 5eva), Pierpaolo Scida was a magnificent Misto and I adored him - he was so cute! The little background actions and looks he did were so in character with how he interpreted Misto! Also he was beautiful you can't change my mind.

Malika was such an intense Grizabella - 10/10. She was proud but so vulnerable. She walked right past me when she first came in and lads, she did the whole show in these massive stilettos - absolute queen. At one point it literally rained on her on stage! During her first Memory, Old Deut was really watching her, and at the end of it he approached her, but she ran off when she saw him. I thought it was a super cool character moment, like she knew she wanted to be accepted, but wasn't quite ready for it. Even after the big Memory and Old Deuteronomy declared her the Jellicle Choice, Victoria approached her, but she was still too scared to let her, and it was Jemima who finally was able to reach her and bring her in. At the end she just kinda disappeared off stage - there were no flying tyres or magic stairs in the circus tent!

During the bit after the bows some of the cats were out in the audience and Tugger scared the absolute crap out of this one woman by poking his head in between her and the person sitting next to her. Iconic. Also during the latter part of the interval the audience was allowed to come up to the edge of the stage where some of the actors were goofing about in character. This mf pretended to cough up a hairball and now I have it on video. I also got some close ups of Teazer and the beautiful Bomba!

The Italian Junkyard was fabulous! It was mostly roman landmarks like Piazza Navona and Bocca della Verità, but there was also Michelangelo's David (which I'm pretty sure is in Florence) above the orchestra! There was also a giant marble foot, an Italian-style water fountain, and a broken column. My favourite prop was the bench, it's elevated at the back left of the stage and the cast were using it like a slide to enter the stage! Also it seemed to be Misto’s preferred location to lounge.

In conclusion, I will never get over this.

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megaderping · 7 months

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Saw a rather mean post last night, and genuinely, I do not understand how people can play Persona 5 (particularly Royal), and come out thinking Akechi genuinely hates Joker when Morgana outright states for the audience, "You don't really hate Joker, do you?" Akechi laments how they didn't meet a few years earlier and how they could've been "great rivals, perhaps even friends." o_O Like... is this a vanilla thing? I genuinely don't get it. The interrogation room wasn't even his idea (SIU director mentions as much). It's not even about the ship- the game spells out that their bond is more complex, and it just so happens that a lot of people like to explore it as one. Even as platonic, tho, there's a shit ton of depth. Idk, any time I see discourse (especially people making fun of Shuake fans and stuff), I just question how many people actually paid attention to the dialogue. Even the "I hate you speech" reads as him being extremely emotionally constipated and conflicted. Plus, y'know...

Very hateful. Sure. :p Idk, maybe certain playthroughs of the game remove all those moments where the game spells out that they have a special bond (Maruki even states it isn't based on hatred, but that's only if you get his third awakening). Just wish people would get off their high horses, if anything. Sometimes I see people get really condescending about liking Akechi or liking Shuake, and like... just block the tags if you don't like these things instead of posting untagged ship/character bashing and making fun of fans? At least have the decency to tag it as something that Shuake fans can filter because some of those posts are really mean-spirited. :/ You think we haven't heard it all before? I may be new to the fandom, but I have heard that this BS has been going on for years.

I don't think it really matters if there are "healthier" ship options because some of us prefer the messiness, the depth, and complexity. It's not for everyone, and I respect favoring more straightforwardly sweet and wholesome dynamics or wishing your favorite pair got more spotlight. I'm a Riku and Kairi shipper in Kingdom Hearts, for crying out loud. :P I get it, but you're not gonna win anyone over to your side by telling them that [insert ship here] is better. In my case, it makes me more averse because of how deeply their relationship in the confidant, engine room, and third sem touched me and seeing people go "yeah, but you are wrong for feeling that way, THIS is better" is just... yeah. :/ (Also, people gotta learn the difference between hitmen and serial killers. Akechi is the former, which I've ranted about before, but yeah.)

So many fandom problems could be solved if people didn't take the piss out of others for shipping something they don't personally like. x_x; By all means, feel the way you feel, it's okay to not like things.

#goro akechi #persona 5 #persona #persona 5 joker #joker p5 #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #not naming names but the amount of times i see people shit on shuake fans while ignoring blatant dialogue in the game #i was just trying to look for cool akechi posts last night #every time people make fun of shuake fans i like the other joker ships less and less tbh #the ship and the character mean so much to me #discourse

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braisedhoney · 10 months

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(Now, for this entire thing we're simply going to pretend you can't see my username and I'm completely anonymous still, alright?--Alright.)

CAPTAIN, I SAY IT IS ABSOLUTELY MARVELLOUS TO SPEAK TO YOU ONCE AGAIN-!!

My departure was short lived, for I have RETURNED, READY FOR ACTION---And a teensy weensy bit of chaos alongside it-- BUT MAINLY ACTION--!

SPEAKING OF ACTION~!

I have come here with a proposition~

NOW , Captain, you had mentioned the crews almost uncanny resemblance to being within a -- in your words -- "Diet retro crime movie"

AND YOU ALSO HAPPENED TO MENTION--

That all we need to COMPLETE these shenanigans,... are matching fancy SUITS, instead of our " state-of-the-art " space-wear we currently have as our usual attire, correct?.

WELL, WELL, WELL, MY DEAREST CAPTAIN, DO I HAVE THE SOLUTION FOR YOU--!!!!

RIDICULOUSLY DETAILED, COMPLETELY NON-FUNCTIONAL AND UTTERLY ABHORRENT,..ER...DAZZLING.....SPACE SUITS~!

[Audience cheering sound track ensues.]

EHH..? EEHHHHH..???

I JUST KNOW YOU'LL D E S P I S E ADORE THEM--! They fit the category QUITE well, don't you agree, Captain..?

IT IS RATHER... " RETRO " AS THE KIDS SAY, HM?

I put GREAT of amounts consideration into the production of such an idea--!

(And absolutely did not simply type "Space themed suit" into Pinterest with a high expectancy of something at least half-decent only to receive this utter piece of he-)

ANYHOW, ANYWHO AND ANYWAY~~

That's all I have to share with you as of current, Captain!

STAY GLAMOROUS --!!

--Anon #0416, Reporting loud and FASHIONABLEE~~!

...(Captain-- if you couldn't tell, this is a joke, and as much as I COMPLETELY respect your decisions --seeing as you're much higher in terms of authority than I-- I beg of you to please NOT take this suggestion into any consideration, I would not be caught DEAD OR ALIVE in such an ATROCIOUS outfit...I'm simply here for comedic purposes and to pull out a whacky and endearing gag or two. BUT, but, I'm not being...PUSHY ,or anything of the sort-- I'm just...humbly requesting and pleading that you don't take this joke pitch into account...ever-- Alright, well, Toodle-pip~!)

well if it isn't our resident show host!! always a pleasure to have you pop in for a... er. consult? (is that what we're calling these sessions of concentrated chaos?)

i see you've come to peddle your wares. i'm intrigued by your presentation. they say you have to dress to impress if you ever hope to get anywhere. that's part of why i issued new uniforms—style might not be better than substance, but it sure can help.

... space-suits? emphasis on the suits AND the space? well that's gotta be one of the most convincing sales pitches i've ever seen, #0416. and you get even more points for enthusiasm. in fact, i'm so convinced that i'll take a few sets—and give one right back to you! gotta let that fashionable star shine as bright as we can o7 maybe it'll make your show even more popular. always helps to be eye-catching, right?

#ney’s chatter (ask answers)#ney’s comics #ney’s art #tales aboard the hive #this ask took. *so* long to answer i’m so sorry #BUT it’s done! and we’ve gotten there!!#long post #i wonder how many people who followed me more recently are like. ‘wtf is this’#it’s been a long time since i’ve made an art reply for a crewmate report lmaoo #there’s another one coming up soon. i prefer to sprinkle these between fanart so people don’t get bored ;; :’D #sona art

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theminecraftbee · 7 months

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i know you using the word pretentious is more of a joke than a serious self critique but why do you feel like you gotta hold back on the pretention? i like to see you flex that muscle :P

listen sometimes to let myself write something self-indulgent i have to sort of jokingly go "so what if it's self-indulgent this is for me" to like. free myself of thinking it needs to be good. or thinking i'm too self-serious or something. is it reasonable? not really, you're right, you can be as pretentious as you want and it can be REALLY COOL. free myself of writing for the worst-faith audience and all that. don't hold back. i have a guide to make sure i'm not writing casino-style blackjack wrong and an odds calculator open on my browser,

#answered #beeelderly

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sanest-bsd-delegate · 8 months

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Hiiiii I love your stuff :3 could you write about ranpo and y/n eating snickers??? (The candy bar lol :D)

𝗕𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘀

Oneshot: A little scenario between our lovers Ranpo and Y/N Genre: Fluff, nothing particular A/N: this is such a cute idea, ty anon for requesting. →Masterlist

As the sun began to set, the sky was painted with a kaleidoscope of colors. The golden glow of the sun kissed the horizon, casting a warm and comforting light over the land. The clouds, a canvas of purples, pinks, and oranges, seemed to dance and swirl in the evening breeze. The world was still, as if holding its breath, in awe of the beauty before it.

It was yet another day for the great detective Ranpo Edogawa and Y/N L/N, as they returned from yet another case the agency gave them that day. Hand in hand, you both walked by numerous stores and shops, too obvious about the fact what Ranpo would say next.

All of a sudden Ranpo stopped at his trace, as you got held back by a little, when your eyes traced where his eyes went. Of course, a kid had to eat ice-cream and have the audiency to be rich and afford the premium flavors.

‘You gotta be kidding me’ you thought as you pulled Ranpo away from that spot and continue walking towards the agency. A sudden poke made you halt on the spot yet again, as you see Ranpo giving you pleading smile, his eyes closed as he took away his hand from yours, and when you hold his hat down with both of his hands.

“Ranpo! You need to stop eating so much sugar, its unhealthy besides, I really don’t have enough money to buy you those ice-cream, come on now we need to hurry to the agency and report the case” You said, as Ranpo went to hold your arm, stopping you from moving.

Sighing, you shook your head in disapproval, as Ranpo went to kiss your cheek, making you light blush on the spot, the sudden affection stunned you a little. But before you could recover from the sudden pda Ranpo gave, Ranpo went in to give you kisses all over your face, your forehead, lips, cheek and nose.

Now, was the time people started staring at the couple and you were too much dumbfolded to stop. A sudden bump in your leg, thanks to the kid who passed by you make you back to your senses, as you held ranpo’s head preventing him to give you more affection, that is in public at least.

Turning your head left and right, you find yourself seeing a small shop nearby, as you prayed to find something sweet in that shop.

“R-A-N-P-O” You called out, as Ranpo lift his head at you calling his name, his hands never leaving yours, “I will go buy us something, till then sit HERE”

You specifically had to pat the seat that was under the tree, making sure Ranpo was seated before you headed towards the small shop, looking for something sweet.

A while later you returned back with a packet full of small packed snickers, the chocolate was the closed to what Ranpo ate.

Ranpo looks at you as he jumped out of his seat in joy, running towards you, hugging you tight. “Okay Okay, now stop sulking here are the treats….you deserve” You said, as you handed the packet to ranpo, both of you yet again walking towards the agency.

“Y/NNNNN”

“Hum?” you responded as you say ranpo extending his hand to give you one piece of snickers, and all the annoyance you felt for your boyfriend at that moment vanished.

“Y/NNNN Eat with me!!”

You took the piece of snickers before unwrapping it, as you saw him do the same, before placing the chocolate mini bar in your mouth, the chocolate flavor, melting within.

Both of you, by the time you reached the agency had finished the whole packet of snickers, as you threw the packet throw the nearest bin, walking lazily as you held his hand again. Ranpo yet again haults you, this time your irritation taking over you, “What no-“

A sudden weight was placed on your head making you confused a little, as your hands reached to touch the mass on your head, a Flower crown

“I love you”

With that, Ranpo skipped away from you, chasing after Atsushi, shouting at him to bring him snacks whereas for you, you held the flower crown in your hands smiling at that small gesture.

Masterlist

A/N: had this in draft for long, Ill sleep for now.

#bungo stray dogs #bungou sd #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd manga #bsd x reader #ranpo drabble #ranpo imagines #bungo stray dogs ranpo #ranpo x reader #ranpo #requests to sbd #sbd ranpo asks

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twothpaste · 6 months

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Idk if you've covered this before but what are your thoughts on Porky having a movie about Ness n pals? That scene is rapidly spinning around in my noggin

This turns my cerebral matter into a rotisserie chicken on a spit as well. Part of what's so fascinating about it I think is how much we don't know about the film. How did Porky make this thing?? Are the characters we see on screen paid actors, re-enacting the events of EarthBound for his amusement?? Or did he somehow, through timetravel shenanigans or a deranged obsession all those years ago, actually record Ness n' pals' adventures?! Did Porky himself write a script for this movie, or supervise the editing? Is it documentary or dramatization? We don't see any frames that feature Porky - one's gotta wonder how he presents himself on the silver screen. Like, did he clip out all the times he acted like a total scumbag? Did he change them, so that to an audience of suckers, the esteemed King P seems like a hero too? Or is it presented exactly as it happened, 'cause in Porky's eyes, he really was the hero of this story all along?? I feel like a dedicated fan could make a case either way for every one of these possibilities. And all of them carry haunting implications in a bazillion different ways. ( Lots more beneath the cut. )

What we do know is that this movie's mere existence says a lot about Porky's fixation on the past. New Pork especially - but other areas too - is littered with callbacks to EarthBound, loads of shallow & off-kilter recreations of objects & imagery from Porky's childhood. It's as if he's trying to resurrect everything he's nostalgic for, and superimpose it onto a totally different world. Dude's lived a bazillion years, he's probably had all kinds of crazy experiences in that time. But he's still only got eyes for Ness, and Onett, and that one very special adventure. He's grandly presenting his origin story to a generation of future-people, and presumably expects them to be just as terminally nostalgically enthralled as he is. But these people don't have the context to know what it means. They can't grasp it as anything other than a cartoonishly wacky adventure film. They probably don't even know it's depicting real events (however skewed it may or may not be)! Or that these child heroes almost definitely grew old and died ages ago. The thought of Porky putting forth something so important to him, something that means fucking everything to him - and his flock of brainwashed followers just not getting it at all - is like??? Boil me down into soup and stir the pot around. Pour me in a Campbell's can and don't open it until the end of the world. Agh.

This applies just as much, maybe especially so, to Lucas. Something about it always feels deeply unnerving to me, when I reach New Pork's movie theater on replays. Piloting Lucas n' company to stand there, in the dark, juxtaposed in front of a past they can't possibly comprehend. A past we, as players of this series, identify so strongly with! But our new protagonist flat out just isn't a part of that old world. He's got nothing to do with it, and no clue who Ness is. His fight with Porky is so present and personal… I don't think Lucas is carrying on a mantle here, even symbolically. Porky wants very badly for him to be the new Ness, a worthy opponent who'll "play" with him, to rekindle the same adrenaline he felt when he last fought his old friend. But Lucas is his own person with his own motives. And he's not playing, either. You press A in front of that screen, and you get nothing special in terms of flavor text. 'Cause it doesn't mean anything to Lucas. Porky's memories simply aren't Lucas' baggage.

There are a lot of moments in Mother 3 that turn nostalgia on its head. Makin' stuff that oughtta feel familiar and heartwarming turn queasy in your tummy instead. Making you reconsider why you cling to childhood memories, and whether or not they blind you to future possibilities - like they do for Porky. The movie theater's probably my favorite of these moments.

#thank you anon #sorry this took a while to answer 🙇#mother 3 #ask tag #2thtalks

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ferociouslycreativemystery · 5 months

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I just finished the Button House Archives and it's SPECTACULAR. Here are some personal highlights:

I love Alison's additions and comments in lots of places. She is fighting tooth and nail to stay on those hinges, and we love to see a character with spunk!

Mick's facial reconstruction could be the most horrifying thing I have *ever* seen

Mary's bits are some of my absolute favourites. Her speaking/writing voice is just delicious

Pat was just a terrible group leader wasn't he XD the arrow was really just a matter of time. He should have gone orienteering with them first, then he might have lost the kids before they could kill him

HAH I unwittingly picked Kitty's "character quote" to use in my video edit :P I feel validated

Thomas with his painfully literal complaints about other people's poems OMG rip bestie you would have loved tumblr (I haven't listened to the audiobook yet but I swear I can hear his "counted them, did you?" through the page)

I really like the way you can glimpse parts of later documents around the edges of earlier ones (like with Pat's folder, where the layers are removed one at a time, p. 22-23, 40-41, etc)

Hang on, just gotta go put on One Night in Bangkok for Robin (wait, now I need to hear him say that out loud)

Cap's munitions requests and personally penned operations with their TERRIBLE hand drawn maps that he keeps sending to actual Southern Command; I am fascinated by your mind sir. I believe he suffers from the same affliction I had in school where a combination of the dunning-cruger effect regarding general knowledge and teachers not talking to you in person about what you write in hand-ins causes you to just sort of assume everything you do is brilliant and that then it simply disappears into an unknowable void, and therefore you feel basically free to confess to murder in writing without ever thinking of the consequences. Embarrassment and second thoughts are very much face-to-face kinds of emotions (as he. ahem. would come to find out). Like, is written communication even real? Did it ever really leave your head?

Also: his war diaries were published? 1) who chose to publish them and 2) did Havers ever come across them by any chance? (plus: love to see a fellow tiny handwriting person. Cheers!)

The hand lettering on everything is so well made!!! I know a little (heavy emphasis on 'little') about palaeography, and the writing styles are recognisably of their eras, if many of the letter forms have indeed been updated to be readable for modern audiences. Compare for example Arthur Pinhoe's writing from 1575 (p. 8-11) with this actual letter from 1547. Also this actual 1700s writing to Kitty's diary entries from 1779 (p. 70-71 etc). (These samples are in Swedish but minus åäö they're all the same letters.) The writing also follows the pattern of older script being generally more rigid and standardised, while the closer to present day we get the more individual the handwriting becomes, which is a great opportunity for additional characterisation—which has also been very well implemented I think. I'm devouring every page of this, line by line!

REST IN BRIEFS (also the sly tail of the 'y' from the Daily Mail title just visible above the only compassionate headline lmao)

The reason I cannot talk to people is that Fanny's etiquette rules on conversing take over my entire mind from the moment I see another person.

Oh Kitty, I am coming to pick you up—you can be my sister instead of Eleanor's. It was nice to read her final entry though; finally the trick backfired and she got something good out of it while Eleanor suffered. Bieetch.

FANNY. SINCERELY. YOU ARE INSANE. I already knew about the letter where she demands reimbursement for the unsunk 7/8 of the Titanic's journey that she was cheated out of, but to SIGN IT OFF WITH "Would be survisor/victim of the RMS Titanic". Unbelievable.

Pat write a legible word challenge

I have a slight suspicion Julian might have had something to do with the designs for the Boys Adventure Club badges...

The "pictures of the ghosts" will make excellent reference photos for the various rooms, I appreciate them very much (should we make a game out of copying them and filling in the ghosts? There is a lot of potential there)

Humphrey, my guy... do you need a hug? (Sorry.)

FLOOR PLANS FLOOR PLANS FLOOR PLANS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH I WILL TREASURE THESE WITH MY LIFE

Robin's constellations are impeccable I say we officially replace the zodiac with these no more superstition only bum

Julian's final email was really well written; a single page yet it's oozing with character and story

The behind the scenes pictures at the end are heartwarming. I am slightly alarmed at my ability to pinpoint the precise scene in the specific episode many of them are from though... is it maybe time for a break?

No. Never!

#I did it! I read a book in a day!#not a very wordy book but still. I'm a very slow reader #bbc ghosts #button house archives #maddie's ghosts tag

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ashes0909 · 3 months

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Heeey ashes, do you still take prompts? If yes, consider this: a stevetony Burlesque setting!! Unfortunately that is all that I have but if you want to make something with it, I’d be more than happy :P

This is finally done! Thank you so much for the inspiration. It was a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoy!

~~~~

In the Wings

Steve/Tony; Rated M

Steve rocked on his heels from behind the shadowed wing of the stage. The curtain blocked him from the audience as he waited for his cue to sashay under the spotlight. The music from the opening act had become so familiar he knew every beat.

Steve didn’t have to be on standby this early, most of the performers in his number arrived right before the curtain fell. But Steve arrived in time to see the entire thing, night after night, so much so that he knew every twist and turn of the choreography. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Tony Stark.

Clad in skin-tight pants and a sheer, black crop top, Tony slung his thighs astride a backwards chair. His hips thrust forward, back, every which way, before he kicked up a heeled foot and ran his slender hands up, up and down his calf.

Tony was a walking tease, a talent unsurpassed, their notable and infamous opening act. Steve had been working at the Burlesque theater five years, but Tony had practically been raised in this theater, and the way he glowed under the stage lights proved his worth.

When the curtain dropped and the audience went wild with applause, Tony turned his head to look at the wing, right at Steve, and winked. The tiniest of gestures, specifically designed to taunt Steve, to get under his skin.

In his barely there costume--just a pair of skintight shorts and a pair of suspenders--Steve couldn’t let there be any visible sign of the effect Tony's presence had on him. Instead, Steve clenched his jaw in reply and turned his head to look at one of Tony’s backup dancers instead. He thought maybe he heard Tony’s distinctively satisfied laugh, but he couldn’t be sure.

The man loved to unnerve Steve. It was like he knew Steve admired him, and held it against him just for the fun of it.

The performers eventually broke their final pose and suddenly Tony was in Steve’s wing, stepping into his personal space. It was impossible not to notice the way the glitter shined off his nipples, even in the shadows, through the sheer fabric. The lithe muscles of his abdomen, bare below his crop top, seemed to pull Steve’s gaze like they carried their own magnetic force. When Steve finally dragged his eyes over Tony’s face, he wasn’t surprised to see the man’s lips curled in a smirk that carried as much amusement as it did condescension.

“Gotta focus on your act, Blondie, and not my delicious body.”

And there was the thrum of frustration that never failed to beat alongside Tony’s words whenever he deigned to talk to Steve. “Don’t call me Blondie--I was not looking at--!”

The curtain opened and the music for Steve’s number rang through the theater. Tony gripped around Steve’s bare shoulder, finger teasing under his suspender. Steve tried to muster the wherewithal to pull away from his touch but failed, instead he felt the hand like a burning brand that made everything--the music, his choreography, his goals to surpass Tony to get the opening act slot--fall away.

“You’re on.” Tony leaned forward, presumably so Steve could hear him over the music but it had the unintended consequences of causing a line of goosebumps to cascade down Steve's neck. “Heard you had a new routine. I’ll be watching.”